


it’s like this.

by filmingloves



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bodyguard, Canonical Character Death, Crime Fighting, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Heavy Angst, Jealous Rey (Star Wars), Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Lightsabers, M/M, Major Character Injury, Play Fighting, Possessive Rey (Star Wars), Protective Kylo Ren, Senator Ben Solo, Senator Kylo Ren, Strong Rey (Star Wars), Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27344158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filmingloves/pseuds/filmingloves
Summary: Rey is Senator Solo's new bodyguard.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	it’s like this.

It’s like this.

Rey keeps her face blank as she finally sees her enormous new quarters at Coruscant. She tries not to look too awed by the simple luxury of a bathroom that has a heated shower, and a kitchen with food, so _much_ food. In the midst of her awe, she remembers that she is not alone when she hears the senator’s footsteps as he walks up behind her, his arms tensed with her suitcase and her saber case. 

The first thing she has noticed about Senator Solo is that he’s huge. 

_Enormous_ compared to her, and she’s not exactly small. 

This realization gives Rey horrible, nasty thoughts like. . . like wishing she was the suitcase. In his arms. 

She needs to never think things like that, if she’s going to do this right, protect him. 

Not to mention that Ben’s doing what should be her job, being his bodyguard and all. But he had wanted to carry her things up as soon as she arrived, so she let him— it’s something of an honor for a Jedi Knight to get to defend a Galactic Senator, let alone have them insist on carrying your bags for you. And he hadn’t even really insisted— Ben had just taken Rey’s bags from her without a word. It is a bit odd, but like Finn had said last week, she figures Senator Solo probably should be, given his parents and uncle and all that.

She takes another greedy, gawking stare at the place, and then—

And then Rey notices that there is only one bed.

_No._

_I refuse._

_This is NOT what I signed up for, I can’t just believe that the Senator would have agreed to this and, and—_

“I—Where is the other one?” She thinks out loud, trying to stay calm. Surely quarters this big can’t have just one bed. She turns back to Ben, who is just staring back at her, his face impassive.

“The other bed, I meant,” Rey tries again. “Where’s the other bed?” 

He’s still not responding. Rey briefly wonders if he’s mute. 

“Should. . . should I call Maz—” How could he be a senator if he was—?  
  


“No,” He barks, a little abruptly, and Rey turns pink. Okay, so Ben can speak. 

He sighs, then, gritting his teeth. “No. I’ll take the sofa, you can have the bed.”

“Oh, but that’s—” _Generous. More generous than I expected a senator to be._

“It’s alright.” His expression is dark, his jaw tight. “I’ll get us separate quarters tomorrow.”

Then she realizes that that’s about all Ben is going to say for the rest of the time they’re there. He silently hands Rey her things, and then retreated to the balcony. Odd.

She sinks down into the memory foam, trying to imagine that it’s only her at the moment. 

And then she notices—

It’s a lovely bed. Cozy, and comfortable. Large enough for two people, too. 

The sofa is not bad, but when compared to the bed. . . 

“Thank you, Ben,” She whispers when it is night on this sprawling, urban planet where she wonders what sort of creatures she will have to defend Ben from.

Just as she’s about to fall asleep, Rey hears a soft sound from the sofa.

“It’s no problem,” He mumbles.

She realizes he’s shy. 

_How adorable._

.

It’s like this. 

They become friends, of a sort. 

Truthfully, their friendship is mostly comprised of Rey babbling about all the new things she’s learning being away from Luke for the first time, wonder in her eyes as she accompanies Ben on all of his travels—as Ben let’s out the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.

Being Ben’s friend lets her into secrets about the galaxy that she could never have imagined. She has learned, a month into being the Senator’s bodyguard, that there are hundreds who want to hurt Ben. 

Rey kills all of them, hunting down every last odd Hutt from Nal Hutta, rabid Ewok, and murderous Gungan. 

She protects him.

Rey even starts to see the world through his eyes, the deep cynicism that political obsession lends itself to, and she likes that he’s somehow still the most genuine person she’s ever met: besides letting her take the bed and slumming it on the sofa that first day, he’s _kind_ to her. 

And, eventually, she wants to show Ben her world, too, little though it is.

On one of his rare free days, she drags him along to Finn and Poe’s favorite gay bar—a small, cheerful place at the outskirts of Galactic City—and even though he protests loudly the entire time and acts like he’s hating it cause he’s just—he’s just such a _grump_ about fun things like drink and dancing—even so, she kind of knows (hopes). . . he would be anywhere, just for her. 

Yes, that stubborn feeling, fiery and wanting, that had rushed through her bloodstream when she first laid eyes on him—? That she would kill to be in his arms? Well, it hadn't gone away. Just grown stronger, pushing its way out against the hard, tight ropes that bind her to the the code she’d swore to obey so many years ago.

It’s only three months in, and at times she wonders if protecting him is what she was made to do, it being such an innate part of her now.

All in all, it’s a good night. When the day is coming to a close, she’s already thinking of the next time she can get Ben to go somewhere fun with her.

And if Rey pretends to get a little more drunk than usual so she can snuggle into his chest, and feel the weight of a possessive arm tighten around her in a room full of _gay_ men and fifth class droids? 

Well, no one has to know.

… 

“Rey,” He says sharply, interrupting her thoughts. She’s escorting him back home when the planet’s tiny sun starts to set.

“Yeah?”

He hesitates a little, at first, but then seeming to make up his mind— “Stay close to me, cyar’ika. The city is dangerous, at night.”

As if _she_ wasn’t _his_ bodyguard and her sole job was to protect _him_.

And, also— _Cyar’ika._ Rey doesn’t know what it means— but the word sounds sweet on his tongue, and so she smiles.

And she stays close to him.

.

It’s like this.

They have quite some free time, when no one is attempting to kill Ben. 

And during those times, Rey can't help teasing him, her darling senator.

“Ben, Ben,” She’s always saying. _“Ben.”_

It’s sort of an experiment. Rey wants to know if there’s a direct correlation between saying her Ben’s name, and his ears perking up. Oh, and about them turning pink when he feels her adoring stare. She likes to see how far she can go, so on one of their treks to visit Maz Kanata at Takodana, they stop for water, and when he bends down to fill her thermos, Rey nips Ben’s ear with the edge of her teeth.

There is a short, scary pause where he does nothing.

Then his ear turns a dark, deep shade of red and she giggles as he splutters to regain control.

“You’re so annoying,” Ben growls, as he starts to chase her around her quarters. She screams in delight, sprinting away, as he follows swiftly on her heels. “Not so brave without your lightsaber, are you, Jedi?”

“I’m not scared of you!” She retorts, climbing over the sofa he’d slept in, the first night in Coruscant, then trips, starting to fall backward.

She lets out a yelp of surprise as Ben catches her, and presses her down against the sofa.

He grins. “You should be, Rey.”

… 

This is when she realizes she loves him.

.

It’s like this.

Ben is to be received by the Queen of Loc, a small, dusky planet with little power in the Outer Rim, which is why the visit is primarily diplomatic. Rey thinks nothing of it other than the standard excursion to a small planet, until she finds that Queen Gawwyn’s central goal is to seduce Senator Organa-Solo.

Rey can’t lie—the queen is pretty, though she seems a bit old to be seducing young senators. However, the truth remains that she wears her age well. 

She wonders if Ben notices it, her beauty, when the Queen loosens her bodice, when she beckons him closer. 

But his face is a mask, as impassive as always, so she can’t tell for sure. The Queen of Loc is absolutely shameless, Rey thinks. The woman lightly touches her Ben in the least subtle ways, lowering her voice to a throaty rasp of a lover. 

Yet he still says nothing.

Rey seethes silently throughout the entire meeting, her face flushed red with fury. 

Things worsen when Gawwyn asks her if she needs refreshment. Her blood boils at the queen’s voice. It is a sound akin to sharp nails on her skin, digging deep into scalding flesh.

_You fucking harpy. I will not be needing anything, and neither will Ben, who, by the way, is_ mine—

“No,” She growls in response. It’s aggressive. Maybe a little too aggressive. The atmosphere in the negotiations room suddenly turns freezing cold.

The Queen says nothing, but raises an eyebrow and sits back down, slightly shrugging.

Rey is intensely aware of the way Ben is currently staring at her.

“. . . Rey,” Ben says, lowly, dangerously. Like he’s warning her.

She feels like crying at him using this tone, serious and unfeeling. He hasn’t used it since the day he met her.

It only infuriates Rey further.

… 

After they’re back at Coruscant, instead of relaxing and spending some time in his quarters, like she usually does after a mission, Rey stomps into her own, slamming her door shut, pointedly. 

She knows she’s being a brat. 

She doesn’t care, not even if her feelings are antithesis to the Jedi Code. 

He finds her later, facedown in her bed, and silent. He coaxes and pleads with her, using a stunning variety of endearments, until finally, she turns and faces him. His face falls as he sees her eyes are a little red, like she’s been crying. 

She glares back defiantly.

Trembling a little, he takes her hand in his, and her expression changes as she looks up at him with wide eyes. He guides it with him to his chest, presses it to his heart. 

They both can hardly breathe.

“This is yours,” He tells her. “You understand?”

She nods, slowly, tremulously. “Okay.”

.

It’s like this.

Rey’s in a fight. 

It’s been almost six months since she started acting as Senator Organa-Solo’s bodyguard, and on his tenth free day, Ben takes her to the Outlander Club. It’s going well, and she’s so happy, dancing terribly, wiggling her hips all around and sashaying off beat. 

Ben just watches her, a little embarrassed and a little indulgent. 

It’s quite possibly the best night of her life.

And then it all goes to shit, as it usually does. 

See, if there’s one type of person who annoys Rey more than her Ben’s hundreds of assassins, it is those who try to make him feel any less than what she _knows_ he is worth.

From the huge crowd behind her, she hears a howl: “Darth Vader’s creepy-ass grandson better get the fuck out, he’s not welcome to gamble his dirty money here!”

_Not again._

Rey’s on the Zabrak immediately, her saber forgotten as she lands a ferocious punch to the base of his skull. He goes down, just like that. Good. Short and effective. She thinks she can hear Ben's voice, and turns around as she starts to shake off her bleeding hand. 

But then—

_Oh, Bantha shit._

Rey wheezes, and gasps in pain as her breath is yanked away by a searing vice around her through. 

Somehow the Zabrak is up again, his huge hand tightening around her neck as he squeezes and lifts her off the ground, and oh, kriff, how it _hurts_. Her anxiety rises as his hammy fists dig deeper into her throat.

Hand to hand combat has never been her thing, but in this moment, she has no choice but to fight back. 

Rey’s back to being all Jakku foster-care wild child, half feral as she bites and scratches and kicks at the guy until Ben finally finds her and ends the fight in one swift right hook. 

Ignoring the crowd of Ewoks that they’ve attracted, he scoops her up in his arms, and cradles her in a tight embrace. She wraps her legs around his waist and burrows into him as he carries her out of the club, down the long, winding streets, and back into their quarters. “Baby, darling,” He whispers into her neck, “No more fights.”

“But, Ben. You don’t know what he was saying about you, I had to—”

She gasps as Ben puts his lips to the bruise on her neck.

“No, baby.”

.

It’s like this.

She sneaks into Ben’s quarters every night. 

Rey can’t stand the cold, lonely feeling she gets when she’s in her own bed. So she walks over to his room next door, tiptoes to where his huge self is sprawled out on the sofa, and quietly crawls into his arms. He mumbles a little in his sleep this night, and shudders, but when she kisses him, soothes him, he’s okay again. 

As soon as she wakes up in the morning, though. . . Rey realizes she can’t feel him in her arms, and _she_ is the scared one now. She is the one protecting him, yet she is also the one who gets scared a lot. Sometimes, when Ben’s out this early to get them breakfast, she retreats to his bed, and lays down, clutching a pillow to her chest that she wishes was him. She hates feeling like this. It may make her clingy and pathetic, but she can’t help it. No one asked Rey how she would feel with Ben being Galactic Senator. No one told her that his life was at risk every single day. She whimpers, wanting him badly, her eyes turning a little bright. 

As if he can sense her upset—he’s back in less than a minute, drawing her into his lap as he turns on the Holonet, and they watch a podracing special tangled up in each other until noon.

(And then…

Then, there are sometimes when she fails to properly protect him and, oh, God, she _fails_ and he gets hurt. Those are the worst times.

She always cries, trying to clean and heal his skin wound at the same time.

And her Ben, being himself, assumes she’s crying of disgust at his wound and kindly offers to cover it up.

It takes all of her strength not to scream at him, reminding herself that he is hurt, and is being extremely difficult as a result.

Instead, she just sobs harder, hissing at him that he being hurt causes her pain, makes _her_ hurt. She’s not _crying_ because of something as superficial as not liking the way his wound looks. And of course she doesn’t like it. It shows his hurt.)

.

It’s like this.

It happens one day, where Rey gets hurt. 

She’s in Ataru defense form, swinging her saber in sharp, precise strikes at a pack of Gungans when she sees with a sudden horror, Ben, coming into her line of sight.

Without thinking, she leaps in front of him to shield him from the incoming blow of one of the more rabid creatures. The pain is hot and instant, searing into her skin as she loses balance and falls into his arms.

There’s a ringing in her head, and then things get very quiet.

“ _Fuck_ , baby— “ Ben chokes from far away.

She is not very conscious, what with the amount of blood she’s losing, but she can faintly feel the Force around her start to coalesce, start to be brought together in one concentrated spot.

Dazedly, she thinks Ben might be the one causing it. 

Rey looks up at him blearily in his one armed embrace: his other arm is stretched out in front of him, fingers splayed out as terrifying power flows through him as if he was a vessel, and Force blasts the Gungans far, far away. 

Dead. 

They’re dead. She can feel it in the Force. There is a distinct lack of life energy. . . a sudden loss.

Rey gasps at another sharp pain in her side and can hear Ben let out a string of curses as he shifts her in his embrace and starts to walk slowly back to the Falcon. His palm rests against her heart, and she can feel her strength return as the fracture in her ribs starts to heal. 

He carries her to the cockpit where he finally sits down and draws her into him.

“Ben. . .” She murmurs into his chest. “Force, Ben. . . how did you—?”

_“Rey.”_

His tone is cold, empty. It causes her to jerk her head up in surprise and his arms tighten around her in response.

Except, this time, it’s not his usual endearing, posessive grip, where he digs his fingers into her hips lightly, always making her gasp. This time, it’s more like he’s holding her in place, like he’s not sure she won’t run away.

“I’m not sure I like this arrangement anymore.”

“Ben? How do you mean?” He’s silent. “Ben?” 

“I think… “ Ben struggles over his words a moment. “I think— you should start packing, Rey.”

Her vision blurs.

Time is an odd thing. In the warmest moments of one’s life, it quickens its pace of memory, leaving traces of these blissful times as quick flashes of happiness. In the bad times, however. . . 

It’s just a bit slow.

Rey stumbles a little in his arms, and he rights her immediately, but then lets go just as quick.

“What?” She hates the way her voice trembles, seeking his warm comfort and reassurance that she has become so attuned to. “Ben, what?” She demands, a little stronger. “What do you mean?”

Rey hates how her eyes start to feel watery.

Her life has been a series of disappointments and people leaving. And she somehow gets through those obstacles, is better because of enduring them.

But Ben isn’t just one of those people. 

He is everything, _everything_ to Rey.

“Baby, I can’t take it anymore. I can’t sleep at night wondering when you’re going to risk yourself to save me.”

“But, Ben, I am your bodyguard—“

His hands slip to her hips. “This body,” he growls, “is _precious_. It means more to me than mine ever will. I will not be _witness_ to it dying in front of my eyes.”

Rey starts to cry.

“You can’t say that. You can’t say that, Ben. And you can’t— you’re not going to leave me. You _need_ me.”

_I need_ you.

He’s starting to look a little troubled, as if this was not the reaction he expected.

“Sweetheart, I can always get another bodyg—”

“No! No, cause that’s not the point, Ben! The point is that I will always protect you not because I am your kriffing bodyguard, but because _I love you._ ”

She’s full on sobbing now. How can he be this cruel?

“I love you. I _love_ you and _you’re leaving me.”_

Ben’s dumb, beautiful, eyes finally dawn with realization. 

“Oh, _cyar’ika_ ,” He groans, as he pulls her into his lap, and she snuggles in, burrowing into that place in his chest that feels like home.

And then, a little harshly— “I will never leave you.”

She nods tremulously, shaking as he buries his face in her neck, and starts to mumble into it. “I couldn’t ever, darling flower. You know I’m too selfish for that. I want you all to myself. I just got a little scared, that’s all. But I meant what I said— if this is going to continue, then I will be your guard as well. We will guard each other. _Protect_ each other.”

She doesn’t interject that he has been doing that ever since she met him.

“Okay,” Rey sighs into his chest. “Okay.”

She is okay. She is alright.

Ben is not leaving her; he will never leave her, he told her so himself.

“Oh, and Rey?”

“Huh?”

“I love you too,” He says, smiling a little. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, maybe even before that. Just in case you haven’t realized it, yet.”

“I— I realized it, Ben.”

“Oh?” She can feel him smile into the soft skin of his neck.”

“Yes, I did. I knew because I can’t remember a single time where I didn’t love you from the moment I met you, and you, me.”

.

It’s like this.

One morning, she wakes up and he’s not in her arms.

Which, of course, by itself, isn’t very unusual, but when she checks around their flat, he is nowhere to be seen.

She feels… _off._

Like something is wrong with him. 

Then, suddenly— she feels it. A white-hot flicker of pain and then his voice, gruff and tearful and broken.

“You better not _fucking_ touch her. Take me, take me instead. Please, _fuck_ , I gotta get back to her, she can’t— I promised—" 

She whimpers as the breath is knocked out of him, and he lets a cry of pure, unadulterated pain. There is some dark, hushed muttering she can’t make sense of, then a loud crash and an enraged, sharp inhale from Ben.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU. I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DO _ANYTHING_ TO HER—"

Then absolute quiet. 

There’s a mental block. She can’t hear anything else, not a sound, and she starts to panic, gasping for breath as she grabs her saber and sprints out the door.

She’s crying heavily, searching the city and dangerous spots, asking, begging for information, but as far as anyone knows, Senator Solo was in his flat with his bodyguard all night long.

After fruitless hours of running around the entire place, she breaks down, sinking to her knees and burying her head in her thighs.

She doesn’t know how longs she stays like that, scared out of her mind and so— so _fucking_ angry at herself— this was her one job, to take care of him. And she failed.

When he finally appears in front of her, she thinks she’s dreaming, but then he croaks out her name, and she rushes to him, catching him before he falls out of pure exhaustion.

Rey is quiet as she half carries him back up to their flat, slightly dragging him on her back, but using the Force to levitate the rest of his deadweight.

She can’t help herself, though, while she walks him upstairs. “How did you get back to me?” Her voice is surprisingly clear, even though she feels muddled and helpless and lost on the inside.

He is only half-lucid, but still answers her question. “Walked—walked all the way. To my sweetheart. Walked almost… 31… 31 miles for you, darling. ”

She bites her lip to stop herself from another breakdown, reminding herself that she has to stay strong for him. For her Ben.

He doesn’t stop, though, soldiering on as he tries to explain. “Don’t be sad, don’t be… “ He starts to slip in and out of consciousness, and she grips him tighter as they enter their room, finally. “I walked 31. I am, 31… and you… Rey, you are 22. Only _22_ . Way too young for me. I don’t deserve…” He babbles, “...but they were going to _hurt_ you, I couldn’t… I want too much, I’m sorry, I’m _sorry—_ ”

“Hush, sweetheart.”

He has walked many miles this day to come to her. This shy, quietly arrogant, huge, beautiful fridge of a man has come back for her.

He is obviously out of his mind exhausted, but still manages to keep his large, wide eyes open and fixed on her every move when she peels both their clothes off, then takes him into the warmth of the shower, starting to massage his feet under the hot water.

He makes no protest, still watching her with those wide, dark eyes. 

He shudders a little when she interlaces his toes with her little fingers, pressing tenderness back into them as she tries not to cry.

After she’s done with his poor, sore, muscles, she presses kisses to every part of him, caressing his skin with soap and warmth and love. Every few moments, she makes him move a little so that she can heal a small cut, putting all her soothing love into it. 

He stays quiet throughout.

She is not surprised that the injuries are little. Most of the damage was inflicted not on the outside, but inside himself, a special type of mental torture devised specifically for the only son of war heroes Leia Organa and Han Solo. Just imagining the sheer pain he must’ve gone through is enough to break her, but she soldiers on, reaching up to his face to playfully tweak his ears. They flush and she feels her heart ache, so she tries to hide her emotion by continuing to scrub until he is clean and healed and safe.

Afterwards, she takes a freshly showered Ben to their bed. She turns the light off, and drags his favorite plush quilt to the bed, which she tucks over the both of them, burrowing into him as he holds her tightly to his chest. 

He finally seems to have found his voice again, whispering her name again and again into her hair.

She can’t take it anymore. 

She can be weak in his arms, she thinks. 

So she lets it all out.

He wipes her tears tenderly when she sobs into his chest that she’s a failure of a bodyguard, that she should’ve known that her Dyad in the Force, of which she has just begun to understand of him, was being stolen from her very arms.

Strangely, he just smiles in response, laughing a little giddily. “ _Rey_. Love you,” He says in answer to any of her statements. “Love you so much.”

It’s as if he’s so surprised by how he’s got her in his arms again, if only by his sheer strength of will, that he’s oblivious to anything else.

They sleep soundly in each other’s arms and he whispers when he thinks she’s asleep that he wants to stay like that forever.

She tells him okay.

.

It’s like this.

Unlike their last, it’s a lazy morning in, and everything is warmth and sunshine. 

Rey smiles as Ben mumbles something unintelligible into where he has buried his face into her chest, arms still loosely wrapped around her torso.

Rumors had been ablaze the HoloNet when the infamous senator son of galaxy heroes Leia Organa and Han Solo declared his undying love for his bodyguard and proposed to her in front of all the visitors to Takodana Castle. 

Rey had been a bluster of tears and emotions and more tears. 

When he got down on one knee— she just nodded, trembling, and then, dissolving into happy sobs, hid her face in his chest, relishing the pleased rumble that reverberated through him.

His arms went around her instantly, gathering his bodyguard closer to his heart. Ben tried not to cry, too, but he couldn’t really help it.

.

It’s like this.

The little dumpling of a boy waddles towards the shore, letting out a big belly laugh as he digs his toes into the warm sand, and flops onto his tummy. 

His mother is nearby, stretched out on the sand like a starfish, in swim trunks and a dark shirt that’s too large for her. His father— the owner of said attire— is hunched over her in only trousers, doing his best to protect her from the heat and sunlight, as his twin brother squirms in one of two sacks tied to Ben’s back.

When he starts to look too tense, Rey smiles up at him and places her fingers on his forehead, smoothening the lines of anxiety there. “He’s just having fun,” She soothes. “They’re taking turns, darling.”

He grins. “Yeah, okay.”

.

It’s like this.

She wakes up, gasping, her face red and tear streaked. 

Her expression, however, is calm. 

She raises her eyebrow to the Force ghost next to her. “So, what? This is. . . this is how it could’ve been if. . . if he. . . ?”

The ghost sighs. “If he had quite less of an affinity for the Force, yes.”

She nods. 

There is nothing else she needs to know.

“The galaxy will burn,” She says quietly, “for what it took from me.”


End file.
